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The Diary29 December 2005: Kanu's Brace Ensures Albion Win Their SpursWow ? what a game, and what a wonderful performance from Kanu. That?s the reason why I?m starting this column very late indeed, about two hours, in fact. The reason, of course, was to watch Match Of The Day and see his brace for the Baggies once more; they really were special, honestly ? and we ain?t half going to miss him when he jets off to Africa, and their equivalent of the European Nations Cup. And another thing I noticed when I saw the replay; our tame Nigerian seems to have developed a predilection for small boys when it comes to goal celebrations. On both occasions, some small urchin or other suddenly found themselves scooped up and held aloft, much to the alarm of their poor mums, no doubt. And they got to star on Match Of The Day, too. Many more like that, and they?ll be getting their Equity cards in the post. All's well that ends well, I suppose, but my thoughts earlier this evening were far from cheerful. How come is it, I thought, as we made the short trip to the ground, that these days the prospect of a midweek visit to The Shrine now evokes loud groans from this column? Years ago, the very thought of a floodlit Hawthorns made for the mouthwateringly-juicy prospect of a footballing treat beyond compare; midweek games back then were something really special. Something to do with lingering memories of all those smashing Cup wins back in the sixties and seventies, with a few splendid League offerings chucked in for good measure. These days, when the temperature plummeted to well below freezing point, and there?s a thin covering of ice on the pavements, attendance at such frigid fixtures seems more of a major imposition than a winter evening leisure activity. I?d long ago realised that the only thing to do to conquer such awful climes is to put on layers in quantity, the number of which, in my case, would give the average Eskimo a decent run for their igloo-money. Then make the best of things as we trudged up Halfords Lane by commenting at length upon the artistic merits or otherwise of the various Christmas light displays currently adorning several houses along the way. (If you really want to know my opinion, the lovely twinkly purple and white combo, although decidedly unspectacular when compared with its rather more ?in yer face? counterparts nearby, is by far and away the most artistic of the entire lot!) Not only that, Halfords Lane was to yield yet another festive surprise for the both of us; who should we find trotting rapidly to catch us up, but a veritable ?blast from the past?, circa the early 1990?s. Welcome to my column a chappie known to us as ?Mike? ? sorry, I can?t recall his surname ? who was a regular away traveller with us back in our Third Division days. The lad was an impoverished student back then, and my abiding memory of his has to be the time we journeyed to the Deva Stadium, Chester, around spring 1993, to see Albion make more solid their claim for a play-off spot. The thing was, before the game, we chanced upon an excellent watering-hole, a ?student-type? pub, situated adjacent to a canal. But that wasn?t the main reason I remember Mike; what was concerned their one-armed bandit, one of those electronic jobs, all flashing lights and noises like aliens had just laid claim to the nearby city. Mike, having a couple of quid spare, decided to give the thing a go, and before we knew it, thre was an almighty clattering of pound coins in the tray at the bottom ? yep, the jammy sod had managed to win around ?25 quid, but being a student, and having all the financial literacy of that ?Spend, Spend, Spend!? pools-winner in the sixties, he then ended up putting a fair amount of his loot straight back again! Blimey, when I was in a similar position, back in the seventies, I would have taken the money and run, no problem! But back to the present. Meanwhile, in the Hawthorns Hotel, places had been reserved for us by The Noise. Eagerly taken, of course, and while both Lewis offspring proceeded to update my other half with their festive adventures, I took the opportunity of penning the opener to tonight?s column! Oh ? and on an adjoining table, there sat Britain?s very own contribution to the greenhouse effect and global warming, a certain Steve Brookes. The combination of him and a festive portion of Brussels sprouts didn?t bear thinking about. Didn?t they bring out the Kyoto treaty to sort out such major methane emitters as he? A wonderfully-telling comment from The Noise as we batted the breeze pre-match. ?I?ve got a fifteen year-old, and somebody who thinks she?s fifteen. God knows what she?s going to be like when she IS fifteen. When she?s on her own, out come the dolls, and she?s nine, but once Carly?s mates come around, away go the dolls and she?s fifteen again!? There?s an easy way to stop that, mate ? the next time she wants to get into something with a child?s concession, tell her she can?t, as she keeps insisting she?s fifteen! Well, it was but a thought. The Noise, again, on not going to many away games this season: ?When I sit and read the accounts of our away games, and the lack of entertainment for our supporters, I see it as fifty quid saved these days. Were we to go at sides, and lose, say, 3-2, it would be different!? Oh, dear ? let?s hope we get something at Anfield this weekend, then, otherwise our Potteries chum will be driving workmates to distraction, ?moaning his bag off? as they so charmingly term it in those there parts. Oh ? and just before we were about to go, The Fart enquired of me whether or not I wanted a Wigan ticket. Not feeling all that enthusiastic right then, I replied, ?If we win tonight, I might be interested, but of we lose, forget it?.? After tonight?s splendid result, it looks very much as though I?ve talked myself into going, then! Heading off in our respective different directions ? The Fart, in the East Stand, had the longest walk of all ? the time had come to enter the lion?s den ? or something. Inside, we immediately noted that the away end was completely full; well done to the London lot for turning out in such numbers on what was, quite frankly, a shitty night. Did I hear Boyden right when he claimed the temperature of the pitch area to be a distinctly-chilly minus 4 Centigrade? If right, seriously cold, that ? and that?s why I suddenly found myself wearing not one, but two hats! My thoughtful other half, having read somewhere that 20 % of all body heat is lost via an uncovered head, decided to rectify the balance a little. Mind you, I?m not quite sure what John Homer and his missus Jean were up to in the seats in front of me. There ?warm-up? exercises, assisted by a lad called Derek in the row in front, consisted of grabbing Jean by the trouser leg, and trying to haul her over the gap, a situation that caused her to squeal quite alarmingly! Additionally, we?d heard via the grapevine that as expected, we had Clem up and running for us once more, plus Kanu and Kamara, but no Inamoto, Carter deputising yet again. I can only assume that our Oriental friend will be very much available for the Liverpool game; once more, a case of ?keeping our powder dry?, I suppose. Out both sides came to a predictably-tumultuous welcome, with the referee who caused so much controversy with that ?hand of God? goal at Seal Park, Mike Riley, heading up the procession. One other thought concerns my comments yesterday regarding the ?ten day rule? with head injuries; apparently, that one?s gone by the board, now. Thank you, Mister Fart, for telling me before the game! Off we went, then, and within just a couple of minutes of the start, Spurs nearly potted the black, Clem being our saviour this time; after that, the play then shifted straight to the other end and suddenly, it was Spurs thanking their lucky stars, The Duke putting Carter through, then his shot taking a deflection off a Tottenham player and just zinging narrowly wide of the near post. This end-to-end stuff set the tone for the early period, and ere the half was but a third gone, both sides could have gone ahead, only poor finishing letting them down. Mind you, we didn?t have to wait too long to let some good, old-fashioned ?boinging? breathe new life back into those frozen circulatory systems; with just 23 minutes on the clock, a Spurs midfield clanger let in The Stripes ? and how. Somehow, the ball rebounded off one of theirs, and ended up providing Kanu with some very welcome ?ammunition? indeed. Some players would have panicked at finding themselves suddenly possessive of such an enormous supply of good luck, but not our tame Nigerian international. As cool as you like, he took the ball into the box, rounded England?s so-called ?Number One?, Paul Robinson ? gets confusing, doesn?t it? ? then slotted the ball home, and from a very narrow angle indeed. Albion 1, Spurs 0, and the best start we could possibly ask for. About a minute following the restart, we were treated to the sight of Defoe ?at least I think it was him ? trying his utmost to get himself included in the Oscar nominations. Either that, or trying to con the referee into awarding a penalty to the visitors; I?ll leave it to you lot to decide. Anyway, the ref wasn?t having any of it ? so surely, Defoe ought to have gone into the book for trying it on so blatantly in the first place? If more refs were to wave a yellow card the minute that sort of malarkey started creeping into games, we?d see much less of it, methinks. From that, we then enjoyed watching some really superb Albion, a five-minute or so spell of attacking football that made the fourth-placed visitors look very ordinary indeed. First off, the Duke had a free-kick effort deflected over the bar for a corner, which Carter took, the resulting effort falling most invitingly for our former Wigan man, but he simply couldn?t convert. I had to giggle, mind, when the Smethwick, in celebratory mood, urged the Halfords Lane lot to ?Give us a song!? Have a heart, chaps and chapesses, unless Albion provide both underfloor heating, and an unlimited supply of G and T?s to its mostly-wrinkly occupants, you?ve got absolutely no chance! After that, yet another Albion effort gave Robinson something more to think about, but then the emphasis switched again, Spurs enjoying a small purple patch of their own, but nowhere near as potentially-dangerous as ours. Oh, and about five minutes from the interval, Kanu ended up getting a right old smack in the eye from an opposition player. The incident happened so close to the Halfords Lane touchline, just about everyone in those front rows saw it clearly, the lino was also very well placed, literally a couple of yards away, but did nothing to bring it to the attention of the referee. Thanks a bundle, mate. And then, before we all knew it, it was time for the break ? and as the players trudged off, John Homer simply had to loudly inform the errant lino in the Kanu incident the error of his ways. Something on the lines of: ?Yo?m never a bluddy linesman, yow!?I believe. Said I by way of comment, and knowing my 1969 Glenn Campbell: ?Well, perhaps he?s the Wichita Linesman, then?? A brilliant first half, and one we?d very much dominated, but could we keep our lead for the remainder of the 90 minutes? That was the principal thought on my mind as everyone lined up for the second helping, and buoyed up considerably by the welcome news the half-time scores elsewhere were generally running in our favour. And I needn?t have worried my pretty little head about it, either; within seven minutes of the restart, Kanu did it again, and this time, in fine style. Kanu;s second tonight will undoubtedly rank as one of my all-time favourite Albion goals by the time I?m collecting my retirement pension and going pleasantly potty; what he did was grab the ball on the far side of the field from us, and with The Duke keeping pace, then shifted into gear and into the Spurs box, passing, along the way, one of their defenders, as if he weren?t there. The shot, when it came, just shy of the six-yard line, was mean and nasty ? and by way of a bonus, had keeper Robinson well beaten. Into the back of the net ran the ball, and within seconds, the entire Brummie were in complete raptures ? and yet another small boy suddenly finding himself six feet in the air, and being waved around by a strange man in funny clothes. Wow. The goal, I mean, not the small boy. Funny, though ? just before Kanu?s second, practically all the visiting supporters had been on their feet, and our stewards telling them to sit down; now, not a single one in that Smethwick End enclosure was standing. Can?t think why, myself! To try and salvage something from the mess, Spurs did try changing things, not least of which was the introduction of former Dingle Robbie Keane into the fray, to predictable abuse from the Brummie. And, just five minutes later, yet another wonderful piece of Kanu magic; this time, in tandem with Greening on the left, his over-the-head ball wizardry putting Greening away inside the box; a real shame the former Boro player?s effort ended up looping on top of the netting. The Brummie, absolutely spellbound by all this, knew class when they saw it, though; you couldn?t hear yourself think for the applause coming from that direction. Such was the spell Kanu was casting on both players and spectators by then, even the normally-cynical Bloke In Front Of Me was moved to cry ?Omigod! I?m a-gooin?giddy!? as yet again, the visitors? defence buckled under the pressure. Another Spurs change, then, a lad called Mido coming on. ?Blimey, he sounds like a washing powder!? said I. One puzzling sight, though ? with around 15 minutes left, a sizeable proportion of the Halfords Lane lot were making to leave the ground. ? ?Ave they gorra party to goo to, or summat?? enquired the Bloke In Front Of Me, now relishing our strongly-held two goal cushion. Yet another Spurs swap, for all the good it was doing them, mind ? but strangely enough, no Baggie changes, as yet. Then, with five minutes to go, the man who?d done all the damage to the high-flying Londoners went off for a well-earned premature shower, Campbell being the replacement ? it?s fair to say that when Kanu left the pitch, just about every Albion supporter in the ground was on their feet to acknowledge both his brace and a scintillating performance. Not so the Spurs mob; two strikes against Kanu, one for scoring twice, two for being an ex-Arsenal man! Two other Baggies players, Big Dave for Kamara, and The Horse for The Duke, made their entry in injury time, and within a minute of each other, time-wasters, both, of course ? and then it was all over. What a night ? and what a smashing pair of goals from Kanu. And what a bloody cold night it was, once we?d hit the streets outside the ground post-match. You have to hand it to our gaffer, I suppose for getting the ?rotation? bit right this time. This was, unquestionably, a quality three points, taken from a side fourth in the table, still. The Liverpool game I?m writing off already; should we come away from Anfield with anything, it will be a happy bonus. Our main priority has to be our meeting with Villa next Monday; get three points from that one, and it will be a pretty productive festive period all round. Even though the game is several days away, already my hate-glands are producing copiously at the very thought. Go get ?em, Baggies! And Finally?.. One. Tonight, while sitting in the Hawthorns Hotel, young Carly asked me where I?d got my pink hooded top from, these being a near-essential teenage fashion item these days, of course. A shame I had to tell her ?Perth, Australia?.? ? that?s her thoughts of getting one similar kicked firmly into touch, then. Never mind though ? I did inform her that should the security people at our local shopping mall ever take exception to me wearing the thing inside their building, at least I?d earn the title of the ?Oldest Hoodie In Town!? Two?.. As I?d suspected, we hadn?t been home too long, when our phone rang. I was The Fart, ringing to remind me that I?d more or less agreed to go to Wigan were we to win tonight. Sod it, so I had. So it?s two tickets The Fart will be purchasing come Saturday morning, prior to our departure for Anfield! - Glynis Wright Contact the AuthorDiary Index |
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